Contemplation
by Flaire Murasawa
Summary: Turaga Vakama finds the differences between the Toa Metru and the Toa Nuva. Warning: very slight, brieflymentioned hints of shounenai.


Disclaimer: Bionicle is copyrighted to Lego and I am making no profit from this work. Did I get it right?

Summary: Character analysis, courtesy of Turaga Vakama. Yes, "Turaga."

So, I like the Toa Nuva better than the Metru, and was comparing the two when I realized the personality differences between all the characters in the books weren't portrayed in the movies. The first movie made me very upset at the lack of Kopaka and the butchering of Gali's character. Honestly, half of Gali's lines should have been Kopaka's. And while the second one was good, it was almost all Vakama, Nokama, and Matau. You didn't see the others enough. This is my response to the overplaying or underplaying of the Toa.

Oh, yes…very light, briefly-mentioned shounen-ai undertones. There's not enough good yaoi in this section, but I don't think I put enough in here to warrant flaming.

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Turaga Vakama lay in his quarters, staring up at the ceiling. He just finished telling the first installment of the tale of the Hordika to the enthusiastic Toa Nuva. These daily meetings were getting to be too much for the old Matoran.

Naturally, he should feel outdone. Tahu, Kopaka, Gali, Onua, Lewa, and Pohatu were the ultimate Toa of legend, after all. Their coming had been predicted for centuries within the Knowledge Towers of Ko-Metru—them, and the Toa of Light. Of course they would achieve the ultimate victory in the end, while the Toa Hagah forever lost their original bodies and the Toa Metru were forced to abandon their city.

Vakama shifted a little in his resting place. Still couldn't get to sleep, as physically and emotionally exhausted as he was. He doubted even Lewa could speak for the length of time he forced himself to. The ex-Toa mentally frowned. After telling the story of the Metru, it seemed necessary to delegate the next task to someone more…stable. Like Nokama. She also instigated the situation they were in (although his way of hinting toward their past was painfully more obvious—"Remember me? I defeated you!"—ugh, what had he been thinking?). However, he and Nokama took very different sides during the whole Hordika mess. Though given her disposition, as scholarly-perfect as it was, she could appear to be covering for him. The last thing they needed was the Toa to be suspicious of each other. Again.

A loud cough erupted from the old Turaga, and in a flash he was sitting up and hacking away.

'Ah, another sign of aging,' he thought wryly between hacks. With a final "Hrrrough!" he leaned back against a wall, gave a good wheeze, and waited for a passing Ta-Matoran to enter and ask if he was all right.

If you asked him, the Toa Nuva had the worst teamwork he had ever seen. Even younglings worked together more often than that, and to think that they were Toa--! Although they didn't remember it, in his youth Vakama and most other Matoran witnessed miraculous rescues performed by Toa Lhikan and his team. Glimpses of bickering were seen only occasionally between the two sub-teams. His forge master once complained about them being the worst team in the history of Toa. It was a good thing he didn't remember that, or he'd be chewing Vakama's ear off about the supposedly last Toa he now guided.

As Toa Metru, they trusted each other, and even as Hordika, with the exception of himself, basic teamwork never posed a problem. However, all the Nuva, even garrulous Lewa and friendly Pohatu, seemed loners by nature, and how they won any battles with the minimum amount of cooperation was nothing short of astounding. At the beginning, Onewa placed a bet that the Nuva would eventually crack under the stress and see things worked out best when they worked together. Sadly, the bet lay long abandoned.

Vakama cocked his head to the side. It didn't appear that anyone was in the vicinity. Hn, will wonders never cease? He laid down on his bed once again, in an attempt to sleep and re-energize himself for the next telling.

The Toa Nuva and Toa Metru were more different than he realized at first. Initially, he thought they were rather similar: Water, the voice of wisdom; Earth, the voice of logic; Wind, the wild card; Ice, the anti-social powerhouse; Stone, the social powerhouse; and Fire, the unheeded leader.

As a group, they had their differences—the Metru would work together, but each of them thought they should lead. The Nuva wouldn't touch each other's Wahis with a ten-mile pole, but they didn't put up much of a resistance when it came to listening to Tahu. Individually…well.

Vakama turned on his side, with his back to the dim light cast by his fire staff leaning nearby. 'I'm never going to get any rest if I don't stop thinking.'

Nuju (as translated by Matoro) said Vakama made a better leader than Tahu. The statement came a bit timidly from the interpreter, but Vakama was fairly certain the beeps and whistles Ko-Koro's Turaga emitted bore a distinctly insulting edge. Vakama was more of a follower at the time—he had no idea what to do and was very afraid of doing it wrong. His world had just been shattered—why wasn't anyone else as insecure as he was? Oh yes—the visions. Anyway, he certainly thought straighter and more clearly than the new Toa of Fire, but Tahu's more aggressive behavior made it seem like he was getting somewhere—he could easily leave behind a few mistakes as long as he kept plowing ahead. The only thing the two had most in common was the trademark Ta-Matoran temper.

Vakama could recall a number of times he and Onewa had nearly come to blows over conflicts in battle strategy. Luckily, Pohatu was much mellower than his predecessor. There was a subtle childishness about the Toa Nuva of Stone—he enjoyed playing games and loved a good story more than anything else. He also didn't come up with half the plans Onewa did. The former architect was unusually fiery for a Po-Matoran (he and Nuhrii agreed once, long ago) and almost harshly clever: that was the best way to describe it. As smart as any Ga-Matoran, quick as any Le-Matoran, and frigid as any Ko-Matoran. More often than not, he used that fantastic wit of his to twist the rules in his own favor—and not even the most well-grounded Ga-Matoran could successfully contradict him. The old Turaga left enough of them in tears to prove it. Onewa's brutality contrasted Pohatu's innocence.

However, that did not leave Tahu without a rival. Fire and Ice, why didn't he think about it before? Ah, right—Toa Vakama had enough trouble from Onewa and Matau. Nuju was your average, snooty learner, but Kopaka was a different matter entirely. Ko-Matoran tended to be aloof, with a slightly superior air about them, but this Nuva took the stereotype to a whole new level. On one trip to Ko-koro, Vakama even overheard some Ko-Matoran trading a few words on how distant Kopaka was. Indeed, you didn't get that sort of comment every day, and in such company! Nuju was friendlier than Kopaka was, though Nuju never actually offered his friendship! Not to mention that strength and spirit-wise, Tahu and Kopaka were practically identical, and each of their ideas seemed to work at the same rate as well. However, when Tahu needed Kopaka's help, he went and got Kopaka, and when Kopaka needed Tahu's help, he went and got Tahu. They would probably never realize how much they needed each other. On the other hand, considering he thought ahead more than the rest of the team, Nuju simply did what had to be done. On several occasions Vakama found himself wondering how much Nuju had forseen up in those towers. Even so, he fired off his small share of complaints as well.

So far, when it came to simply complaining without making any real progress, no one had beaten Matau. The Turaga wrinkled his brow. Matau and Lewa—this was going to be difficult. No, no, stop thinking! Why wouldn't his mind just shut down already! Vakama swore he hadn't had less control over himself since…since…

Where was he? Oh, yes.

The two were crazy Le-Matoran, hyped up on their powers, but Lewa was distinctly more carefree. It must have been the age difference. While Matau was embarrassingly immature, Lewa was literally a child. With Matau, seeking thrills was who he was—so long as there was at least a one percent chance of him coming out alive, he'd do it. He lived life to it's fullest, without getting too serious. That was his problem—Lewa could be serious. Matau viewed Toa as fairy-tale legends, and at first didn't see the personal costs that came with the job. Lewa never knew anything else other than being a Toa, and maybe that was why he took all his difficulties in stride. Whether that was good or bad, Turaga Matau himself confessed he didn't know. Especially since the attack of the Bohrok. Lewa put up with more than a person of his composition should—hearing their voices in his head, and his friends near-shunning him. Matau had started to crack since he first became a Toa. Hm. The Ta-Matoran leader found himself wondering how the Toa Nuva would have handled becoming Hordika, then involuntarily shuddered. Better not think of that—it almost felt like bad luck, and if anyone had a right to believe in bad luck, he did. Lewa was as much as a daredevil as Matau was, but was more, if you excuse the pun, down to earth in the end.

Probably Onua's influence. Vakama almost laughed when he made the connection. Both the old and new Toas of Earth were, to put it nicely, worrywarts. To put it in Nuju's words, "Whenua's downright paranoid, and Onua is a mother-hen." Then again, Nuju had a rather rocky history with his counterpart. Black and White. Past and Future. Even now, Nuju was marginally more amiable in Whenua's presence, and Whenua--there's no other way to describe it--just lit up whenever he saw Nuju. They were as hopeless as Tahu and Kopaka. Onua and Lewa, on the other hand…

Vakama's thoughts halted in their tracks. No. Not going there. Not examining his friends' love lives. If he did that, he would have to admit some things about Nokama he preferred not to think about. He must be getting tired. About time.

So, moving on…

Whenua was rather pessimistic at times, but he knew things that would give Vakama nightmares, and then some. He wasn't really paranoid—he just considered all the possibilities. And given what the Archivist knew, all the possibilities were bad. Ta-Koro's Turaga mentally winced. It didn't sound like he was defending his friend at all, and he knew it, but that was the best he could make it sound. Whenua wasn't depressing on purpose… Fine, moving on to Onua, then. For the mighty bearer of the Kanohi Pakari, he was surprisingly kind. Always the first to inquire about the other Toa, and the first to check if anyone was hurt. Whenua couldn't get over how parental his charge was. If anything, Whenua was probably just upset because if he and Onua had the exact same concern, Onua could voice it in a way that showed he thought about his teammate's safety, a natural ability Whenua lacked. Holed up in the Archives for most of his young life, the Onu-Koro Turaga learned to mince his words and keep it down to what others absolutely had to know. He just didn't sound as nice as Onua did, and was greatly misunderstood because of that. 'There, that sounds a lot better,' Vakama thought in satisfaction. Tahu never complained about Onua, except to occasionally gripe about him taking Gali's side yet again.

Gali definitely wasn't Nokama. Although they both had your typical Ga-Matoran wisdom and gentleness, Nokama had first and foremost been a teacher. She knew how to treat others with respect and received respect in return. Gali, with no such experience, got frustrated easily at her teammates, and was noticeably more violent than Nokama ever was—she would have very gladly shoved Tahu and Kopaka's heads into the nearest wall given the opportunity. Most of the time, Gali made the better decisions than the whole team put together, yet she was always outvoted—she had a right to that temper she barely kept just boiling under the surface. Actually, the new Toa of Water seemed like another one of the guys. Despite what some Matoran thought, Gali treated Tahu and Kopaka equally, and in turn, they treated her as another teammate. Nokama had the more feminine side—Vakama couldn't explain it and if he tried he was certain every female on the island would chop him into Rahi feed on the spot. She was just simply…there. Any time Vakama anyone needed a willing ear or a shoulder to lean on, Nokama would do her best to help make it better. Hn, in fact, he probably owed most of his sanity to her support.

If Vakama ever wondered why no matter what, Nokama stood by his side, he probably wouldn't like the ultimate conclusion. Not that there was anything wrong with Nokama, not at all! Not that she was spotlessly perfect either—heck, sending Gali into that cave proved she was anything but.

But…

The old Turaga closed his eyes, and finally fell asleep.

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Looking back, Vakama found himself horrified he had ever turned on his teammates at all. Yes, he failed Lhikan. Yes, he failed himself. Nokama understood that, but in his desperation, he saw the wrong way out. Shortly after leaving his Hordika body behind, Vakama had been plagued by a series of nightmares. These weren't visions, and only he had the right to them. His anger had released itself in all directions—towards his friends, toward the Rahaga, towards himself. Roodaka offered him a way out, but there was one path he missed—Nokama. If he had paid any attention to her—yelled at her directly, broken down in front of her, struck out at her, anything…

Would she have taken his side?

Yes.

Would it have helped?

Yes.

She was always there, waiting to lend him some of her strength. And when he needed her the most, he turned to someone else. He betrayed her. He failed her—the most important person of all.

The next morning found Takanuva and Pohatu waiting in an empty room. In their curiosity to know the rest of the story, they had gotten there even before Hahli. Then again, she was new at this job.

His Mask of Speed aided Kopaka as he traveled through Ta-wahi. The white slopes of his Wahi ended ages ago, and he ran towards the volcano village.

Tahu was awake, but didn't leave his room. The look Vakama sometimes got on his face before and after the telling commenced—would he have a reason to look like that one day? Makuta was gone, and the way to Metru Nui was once again clear. It was like that when Vakama was a young Toa, ready to bring the rest of the Matoran to their new home too.

Onu-wahi tunnels led everywhere, so it was no trouble to get to Ta-koro from Onu-koro. Onua walked through the village gates.

Gali emerged from the riverbank closest to Ta-koro, her thoughts not as tranquil as they usually were. Turaga Vakama gave a serious warning at the end of his last story. What could possibly be so dark that even with all they already faced, the Toa Nuva couldn't fathom?

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"If you don't leave now, you're going to miss the beginning," Matau said gruffly to the Toa who had planted himself in the Turaga's quarters.

Lewa pouted and bounced himself on the old Le-Matoran's bed, ignoring Matau's glare.

"Turaga, how come we have to hear all this from Vakama? From what he says, you all had your share of adventures," he said.

Matau snorted. "Yeah, but he's the one who's going to be chugging water every five minutes."

"It'll sound better coming from you."

Matau froze in his task of looking out the window at some young Le-Matoran on the verge of disturbing some berry baskets. He turned around.

"I said you're going to late. Shoo, get going, or you'll probably make Vakama have to start over again," he said, waving in arms in an attempt to get Lewa to move.

"What's the hurryrush? I can fly there in a few minutes!" Lewa protested as he was pushed out of the tree-hut.

"Sure, and crashram into a bird halfway there!" Matau successfully shoved the Toa of Air out onto the edge of the bridge that served as a path in the trees.

"That was only once!" Lewa exclaimed before taking off.

Shielding his eyes against the sun, the Turaga watched his charge fly away, grateful it wasn't him reliving his role in the trial of the Hordika.

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Alright, I'll admit, I took Onewa's attitude to a whole new level, and gave Tahu a little too much credit. About the Onua x Lewa and Nuju x Whenua—look at the times Onua rescues Lewa, and Nuju rescues Whenua. I know I make a big assumption with the Nuva, calling them the ultimate Toa and all that, but read the first book. They were a big deal. But please tell me what you think.


End file.
